


Young and fool

by AKZoey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 00:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16650595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKZoey/pseuds/AKZoey
Summary: Maybe Draco was crazy, maybe Draco had lost a lot of blood, or he was just hallucinating, but Draco could have sworn he felt Potter caress his hair. Do not. Maybe Draco just lost a lot of blood. Wait, did your eyes really weigh that much? He made a tremendous effort to keep his eyelids wide open, but it was difficult. And it was so tempting ...





	Young and fool

 

 

 

>  
> 
> _Then old Pete was on his feet. “I’m tired!” was what he shouted, a strong, angry copper tone to his voice that no one had ever heard before. Everyone hushed. They were somehow ashamed. It was as if he had suddenly said something that was real and true and important and it had put all their childish hollering to shame. – Ken_ _Kesey, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_

 

 

_Sectumsempra_

 

Draco never saw him coming, but, _Merlin_ , how he felt.

In the beginning nothing happened, he took a step and opened his mouth to mock Potter, but the next second his wand dropped from his hand and suddenly, it seemed that his whole body was being cut to death. The feeling was horrible, worse than all the Cruciatus he experienced during the summer. He did not even notice when he knelt and his body fell to the ground, all he recorded was the pain in his chest and the cry that died suffocated inside his throat.

It seemed that even his throat was burning.

And though his sight was alarmingly blurred, he can still see the blood that stained his white blouse.

What-

He choked, the curse was not one that would make him feel psychological pain, as he had thought at first.

No, it was much worse.

  
And for a moment, amidst all that pain and burning, he allowed himself to admire Potter for knowing a curse so dark that not even he or his father knew.  
Maybe he was not so holy, after all, Draco thought wryly.

Suddenly the pain ceased, he tried to breathe, but he coughed. Something slipped from the corner of his mouth.  
He took, with difficulty, a trembling hand to his lips and lifted up. Blood painted his pale fingers. The same blood he once had been so proud of, the same blood that was spilled in a large puddle around his body.

Was that how he would die? Her stomach wrapped with perspective.  
   
Draco never thought much about death or how he would die, but as a Slytherin, he was realistic. You've always been prepared. I knew that everyone would die someday. Even his grandfather Abraxas, a very strong wizard according to his father, had died after contracting Dragon Dwarf.

So it was no surprise when he was caught up in the feeling of resignation.

  
_I'm sorry that I did this_

  
_The blood is on my hands_

  
_I stare at my reflection_

  
If he died, he would not have to complete his mission. Or fail, as he was convinced. It was impossible that he could kill a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore, even more so with Potter on his heels and breathing in his neck every five minutes.

His only way out was the closet, which he would spend nights trying to fix, but failing.

 

_I don't know who I am_

  
_Practice my confession_

  
_In case I take the stand_

  
_I'll say I learned my lesson_

  
_I'll be a better man_

 

He forced his vision that was a little dark, and big green eyes came into focus.

_They looked so green._

Draco could now differentiate all the shades of greens he could not see from afar. _So beautiful_ , the thought wandered through his mind without his consent. _I would not mind staring at them._ He frowned, where did that come from, he wondered. Had she lost so much blood that she was having irrational thoughts? Fair with Potter?

  
He wanted to laugh. He was going crazy. That was it. He fixed his gaze on Potter, but as he looked into his eyes, he noticed they were wet. Any irony that was on your lips evaporate. Why was Potter crying? Because of Draco? Did he- Saliva piled up in his mouth. No of course not. Impossible.  
Potter was just scared. Many people would panic at the prospect of committing a murder. And he was a Gryffindor, after all.  
   
Draco could even imagine how his consciousness was at that moment.

And he smiled.

That was better than nothing.

"M-Malfoy?" Potter murmured, his tone quivering, almost choking. "Can you hear me? Hey, try to stay awake ... I-I think someone is coming. I'm listening to footsteps ... It must be Snape. Do you realize he's always there to save you from some shit? " Potter gave a broken laugh, the lines of his face were tense, but nothing really so revealing as to show the reason for the trembling of his hands.

  
_You could be happy and I won't know_

  
_But you weren't happy the day I_

_watched you go_

  
_And all the things that I wished I had not said_

  
_Are played on loops 'till it's madness in my head_  
_…_  
_Is it too late to remind you how we were?_

  
_But not our last days of silence, screaming, blur_

 

Maybe Draco was crazy, maybe Draco had lost a lot of blood, or he was just hallucinating, but Draco could have sworn he felt Potter caress his hair. Do not. Maybe Draco just lost a lot of blood. Wait, did your eyes really weigh that much? He made a tremendous effort to keep his eyelids wide open, but it was difficult. And it was so _tempting_ ...  
Draco wanted only-  
Oh, and Potter was still talking.  
  
"... for the rest of the year, and her dream will finally come true. Professor McGonagall will never leave me close to something about Quidditch again, and Snape will-"

It was getting hard for Draco to pay attention to what Potter was talking about. Maybe it was something about Quidditch? No, he said Snape. It was something about Professor Snape. Potions? But Potter hated Potions.

 

_All this feels strange and untrue_

  
_And I won't waste a minute without you_

  
_My bones ache, my skin feels cold_

  
_And I'm getting so tired and so old_

 

"... so ... Ron really will say that I am a ... so ... And Hermione will stay with him as always and ... I will apologize, and try to do better, I will ... You think Hagrid is going to ... But tomorrow you're going to be irritating me and my friends again ... calling names and throwing your shit on us ... even if ... Really like... Do not worry, Draco, I know ... I'm here ... Everything will be alright ... Now "

_The anger swells in my guts_

  
_And I won't feel these slices and cuts_

  
_I want so much to open your eyes_

  
_´Cause I need you to look into mine_

 

No, it was not going to be okay, Draco only knew, it was difficult to breathe now, the air that entered his lungs was burning, burning Draco inside and out. There was so much determination there in those eyes, and Draco really tried to believe it. He wanted to close his eyes and believe that soon someone would find him and he would heal him in time, and that he would not die there, in the ladies' room and the wand of the boy who lived, instead he thought of his estranged childhood, his father's contempt, his mother's irrational and _submissive_ love, in Pansy that perhaps never really admitted his love for Weasley, he thought all his regrets and realized that he had none, he did not want anything and did not feel that he will lose something, then more relaxed, then he closed his eyes and for the last time he spoke; with a touch of fragility and the provocation so characteristic of his that Blaise never managed to use with perfection:

  
"You..is an idiot," And, maybe, he was smiling a little. "...cracked forehead."

"Hey ... _Why_ are you closing your eyes? N- _Do not close_ your _eyes_ ... Malf- "

 

…

_Tell me that you'll open your eyes_

  
_Tell me that you'll open your eyes_

  
_Tell me that you'll open your eyes_

  
_Tell me that you'll open your eyes_

 

 


End file.
